Sprung

Home > Other > Sprung > Page 4
Sprung Page 4

by Kate Benson


  Umm… whatthefuck?

  “What girl?”

  “That girl,” he insists, pointing at me like it’s going to revive the memory of a conversation I know for a fact we never had. “A couple weeks ago, you had one of the guys cover a shift for you so you could go hook up with some girl you met. What was her name? I don’t think you ever said.”

  “I don’t remember telling you about any girl,” I say, trying my best to be as truthful as our current situation will allow. I consider coming clean, same as every time I’ve seen him since me and Evie got together, but I swallow the thought almost immediately. “I’m not sure…”

  “Yes!” he insists, cutting me off and making me cringe internally. “You met some girl from out of town and you took that weekend off a while back. Tony covered one of your shifts. Don’t you remember him bitch about it for like three days?”

  Well, I don’t love Tony. I can punch him.

  “Hmm,” I shrug, taking the opportunity to look away. Keep your mouth shut, dude. You told her you’d handle it this afternoon. “I don’t know, Mase. I haven’t met anyone new.”

  “Well, then why the hell did I have to work with Tony?” he asks. “You know I can’t stand that guy.”

  “Yeah, that dude’s a douche. I don’t think anyone likes him,” I deflect. I’m about to say more when I hear a creak from across the apartment. Shit… Evie. “Hold that thought,” I say as I move away from the counter. “I gotta take a piss.”

  He gives me a nod and I make my way toward the hallway that will take me to my bedroom, not only to make good on my word, but to make sure Evie doesn’t come out half naked and blow our cover.

  evie

  I wake early to find his side of the bed empty, which I’d come to find was a rarity. I’d always been a fairly early riser, even more so now with early classes screwing with my internal clock, but I’d found Dash to be just the opposite.

  I guess that’s what happens when you spend most nights behind a bar until three in the morning.

  I trace the folds in the sheets where he’d fallen in beside me just a few hours before. They’re still warm and his delicious scent lingers, so I know I haven’t been alone for long, but the tugging at my heart isn’t something I’m willing to ignore.

  How can you physically be so close to someone and still miss them?

  I roll over onto my back, his cotton sheets against my skin offering me a little comfort as I inhale him in my post-sleep haze.

  My mom is leaving for her trip today, so I know I need to get my ass in gear so I can see her off. However, my motivation to move bottoms out quickly as I consider the alternative of staying naked in Dash Hunter’s bed.

  Quiet sounds come from the kitchen call me with the promise of my gorgeous, grumpy smartass propping himself against the counter. I can already see him waiting impatiently for the coffee to brew as his sweats hang low on his hips, revealing that delicious cut at his waist.

  That mouthwatering thought is all it takes to have me pulling myself from the warmth of his sheets.

  I free myself, pulling his discarded t-shirt from the day before over my head and moving toward the closed bedroom door. It creaks as I pull it open, stifling a yawn as I rub my eyes awake. My lips curl up slightly as I let my thoughts roam back to the memory of his abs in those sweats when I glance up, surprised to see him already rushing down the hall toward me.

  “Hey ba-” I start, but he cuts me off.

  “Shh! Shh! Shut the fuck up!” he hisses in a low whisper, his large palm gently mashing against my face as he pushes me back into his bedroom. “Get the fuck back in there!” he orders almost silently, ignoring the look of shock and fury on my features as he pushes the door shut behind us. “Oh, my God,” he pants, resting his back against the door, his eyes closed as he rubs his palms over his face. “Holy shit, that was terrify-”

  His words are cut off by my hand smacking him sharply.

  “Ow!”

  “Aww, did I hurt you?” I ask, my voice dripping with sarcasm as he rubs the afflicted spot on his arm. “Good! I hope it burns like hell, you fucker! What the hell was that?”

  “Your brother’s in the kitchen, you psychopath!” he whispers defensively, nodding when my eyes go wide. “Yeah! I bet you feel like a real jackass now, don’t you?”

  “What the hell is he doing here?” I demand, my voice low, matching his. “And no, I don’t feel like a jackass. You bum rushed me and nearly mashed my face into a wall with your giant man hand, you idiot!”

  “I’m sorry! I panicked!” he says, his expression softer this time as he leans forward on his knees, catching his breath. “Listen, I have to go back out there, he thinks I’m peeing,” he continues, facing me. “Evie, let’s just get it over with.”

  “What?”

  “We should just let me tell him now, ba-”

  “No!” I whisper harshly, cutting him off as my chest begins to flare. “We agreed on this afternoon.”

  “I know, babe,” he sighs, shaking his head as he pulls me close. “But he’s here and I was thinking about how fucked up it’s gonna be to do this at work, ya know? Not to mention, I’m sick to death of being a fuckin’ liar,” he shakes his head, making a face. “Aren’t you?”

  “Yeah, but…”

  “But nothing,” he shrugs, kissing my hair and releasing me. “I’m just gonna do it. What’s the worst that could happen?”

  “He could kill us!”

  “He’s not gonna kill us,” he rolls his eyes. “This has gone on long enough, babe. I’m gonna go out there and tell him the truth.”

  “Dash, no!” I grip him by his sweats forcefully, pulling him back to my side.

  He tries to pull away and in my panic, I clamp myself around his waist, restricting his movements in an attempt to thwart his stupid plan, bringing us both to the ground with a sharp thud.

  The tumble surprises us both, but as I peer up at him, he’s not just surprised. He’s a little pissed.

  “Are you serious?” he asks in a harsh whisper.

  “You alright in there, man?” Mason calls from the kitchen, making my eyes go wide.

  “Yeah!” Dash shouts back as he keeps his eyes on me. “Baby,” he continues as I shake my head, threatening him silently. “We have to tell him. This shit’s getting fuckin’ stupid.”

  “You said three o’clock!” I hiss, tightening my grip as I glare up at him.

  “Well, I changed my mind. Telling him at the bar is going to backfire.”

  “Dash?” Mason calls out once more, my panic increasing.

  “So, you think we should tell him in the kitchen? Surrounded by knives?”

  “Baby, watch the nuts,” he groans as I shift. “And don’t be dramatic. Your brother isn’t going to stab us.”

  “You don’t know that,” I argue. “He works with deviants, Dash!”

  “He’s a teacher, you lunatic.”

  His footsteps in the hallway still our movements, the shift in light visible beneath the door.

  “Shit!” I gasp, ignoring his eye roll as I clamp my hands over his mouth. “Baby! Think of the children!”

  “Good God,” he groans against my hand, shaking his head.

  “Dude, are you okay?” Mason asks through the door, making my heart pound as I whip my head around in panic, resigning to my fate before I slowly look back at Dash.

  His eyes search mine and where I expect more fury, I find something else. His grip softens as he brushes his thumbs over my waist. After another moment of silent bargaining I deflate, dropping my forehead down on his bare chest.

  I know I’m being a coward, but I also know once we open that door, once Mason knows, everything is going to change for all of us.

  I know Dash is right, we have to do this, but I thought I had more time.

  “Dash, please?” I beg, the hushed words so low they’re almost silent as I swallow the emotion lodged in my throat. “I’m not ready.”

  “I’m gonna be honest with ya, man. Shit’s
getting a little awkward for me…” Mason admits, pulling my eyes back to Dash. “Are you okay? Should I come in?”

  I’d imagined this moment countless times over the last few months, but never once did I see it happening while I was in nothing more than Dash’s t-shirt, straddling him in the middle of his bedroom floor.

  Fuck my life. Seriously.

  Dash’s eyes are still unreadable as he reaches up, gently moving my hand from his lips as I prepare to meet my fate.

  “No, don’t come in,” he sighs. “I just… tripped over a… fuckin’… whatever,” he rolls his eyes in defeat before letting his head fall back onto the carpet and rubbing his palm over his face. “I’ll be there in a sec.”

  “Thank God,” Mason says dramatically. “I thought it was gonna be like that time at the pool when-”

  “No, man!” Dash shouts over him, cutting him off as his eyes go wide. “Nothing like that. I’m good. I’ll be out in a minute.”

  “Alright,” he replies, the shadow of his feet moving away from the bedroom door pulling a deep sigh of relief from my chest.

  When Dash glances back down at me, I can’t help the way my eyes narrow.

  “What happened at the pool?”

  “Nothing… it just… it’s not important right now,” he deflects, pulling another crazy look from me as he gently pulls me up from the floor with him.

  “Oh, my God,” I smirk. “What happened at the pool?”

  “Evie, we’ve got our own problems to worry about,” he whispers harshly, making me bite back my amusement and nod in understanding. “Look, I don’t know what the fuck just happened here,” he continues, gesturing between us. “But you’re gonna have to get your shit together, baby.”

  “I know,” I sigh, burying my face in my hands. “I’m just scared, Dash.”

  “I get it,” he admits. “I really do and no offense, babe, but tough shit. We gotta tell him.”

  “I know and we will,” I promise. “We’ll do it today like we said. I just need a little more time… and pants.”

  “Okay,” he sighs, pulling me close and silently forgiving me for my unintentional abuse as he presses his lips to my forehead. “Just stay in here and be quiet. He’ll be gone in a minute.”

  “Okay,” I nod, chewing on my lip. “I’m sorry I hit you… and pummeled you… and then called you a fucker.”

  “I’m sure it won’t be the last time,” he waves me off, glancing down at me with a smirk. “I’m sorry I bum rushed you and mashed your face with my giant man hand,” he says as his smile widens. “Y’know, in my defense, you’re usually kinda into that shit.”

  “Oh, shut up,” I playfully smack him again as my cheeks heat.

  “See?” he winks, bending to give me a quick kiss. “Told ya.”

  chapter six

  dash

  After our early morning scare with Mason, Evie decided to take a cab back to her mom’s for a few hours. I offered to drive her, but she insisted she was only going to grab a few things while everyone else was at work.

  I didn’t put up much of a fight. Not only was I still exhausted from a late night and a hectic morning, I could tell she needed a few minutes to get her mind right before our talk with Mason this afternoon.

  When I wake a few hours later, she’s still not back and I have some time to kill before my shift at the bar. I was a little surprised she’d been gone for so long. Between her fear of Mason discovering our secret and both him and her mother finishing up their work week, we hadn’t spent any time there since she came home. I know she’s nervous about this afternoon. If I’m being honest, so am I, but I also know it’s what needs to be done. Not only does Mason deserve to know what we’ve been keeping from him, I’m sick of lying and having to hide my relationship with Evie.

  Out of both my worry for her and my own selfish desire to see her, I’m in my truck and on my way before the caffeine has even set in good.

  I walk in to find the house dark and empty. She’d said she was still here when I texted her, but from the looks of it, no one is. I’m about to call her when the sound of the radio playing in her bathroom stops me, pulling me up the stairs two at a time.

  When a quiet crash and a string of profanity escapes from beneath the bathroom door, her hushed laughter tugs at my lips.

  She has got to be the loudest person on the planet.

  I push her bedroom door shut behind me, making my way toward her bathroom.

  “Babe?” I call out, unsure if she’s heard me over the radio.

  A step closer to the door reveals the sound of running water, so I assume she’s in the shower. I’m considering joining her when my eyes roam over her bedroom, the bag she’d come to get in the first place distracting me. It’s lying empty in the middle of her bed beneath a heap of clothes she’d pulled from her closet.

  I move closer for a better look, cringing at the size of it and wondering just how much crap she’s planning on bringing to my apartment. With the two she had when she arrived on my doorstep, there was already signs of her everywhere.

  How much shit does one tiny, loud-mouthed woman need?

  The disaster that is currently my bathroom pops into my head and I internally cringe thinking about it.

  Jesus… I’ve never seen so much mascara.

  I hate how much thoughts like this bug me. I love having her at my place, but we’re on day two and it’s already starting to not feel like my place anymore.

  I love Evie, but this commitment shit freaks me the fuck out even though I know it shouldn’t. Not because I’m a cheater, my list of faults is long and ugly, but you won’t find that on it. No, the reason it freaks me out is because I’d gotten pretty used to people not wanting to stick around.

  Aside from Mason, my mom is the only person who ever lasted beyond the walk of shame the morning after. Even the clingy ones eventually took the hint, not that it was ever a subtle one, and took off before shit got too real.

  This ain’t that.

  I wanted to get over my fear, embrace the shit and just enjoy the next part with Evie. Yet despite my stance on finding a fear and chasing it down, everyone had something that was hard to let go of.

  Mine just happened to be this.

  I’m lost in my thoughts when the smell of something familiar hits my nostrils.

  What the fuck?

  I take the two steps that separate me from the door and push it open, finding her standing in front of the mirror in a matching burgundy bra and panty set she’d surely swiped from the underworld to defeat me.

  As she glances over her shoulder, her long, wavy, blonde locks sway over her waist, somehow pulling my gaze from her ass to her face. I’m about to meet her eyes when the combination of the smell and the haze have me stopping at the lighter hovering over the insanely feminine, rhinestone embellished, hot pink pipe she’s holding to her lips.

  “Baby!” I call out over the Queens of the Stone Age track blaring from her speakers as she turns to face me fully.

  I’m silently commending her for her improving taste in music, but am distracted by her inhaling a thick cloud of smoke into her lungs as she takes in my shocked expression.

  “Yeah?” she manages, her voice strained as she holds in the hit.

  “What the fuck?” I ask, barely holding in the amusement. “Are you seriously getting high in the bathroom?”

  Her eyes shoot to the side, seeming to consider if there’s any way to get out of the conversation before she finally shrugs.

  “I put your oldies on for you,” she gestures toward the speaker. “You’re welcome by the way.”

  “Babe, I listen to classic rock, not oldies.”

  “Same differ-”

  “Not the same thing!” I cut her off with a smirk, shaking my head. “And this song is new.”

  “Really?” she asks, her eyebrows quirking. “It sounds like the stuff you listen to.”

  “Well, I do, baby. I’m just sayin’ that it’s not classic…” I trail off, shaking my head
clear before I push the door shut and face her. “Stop trying to distract me, Evie! Since when do you smoke weed?”

  “Um…” she thinks, her eyes moving toward the ceiling in concentration. “What year is it?”

  “Are you serious?” I balk back at her, this time my laughter barely contained as I lean against the door.

  “Right…” she smirks, finally blowing the smoke out as she hops onto the sink and faces me, eyeballing the lipstick that hits the floor when she does before returning her gaze to mine. “You want some, baby?”

  Her eyes are bloodshot, heavy as she leans against the mirror behind her. Her arms and legs hang lazily from the top of the sink. As she lets the numbness fill her, she slowly reaches for her diet coke and drains it in one long sip.

  “Jesus Christ, I’m fucking Tommy Chong…” I rub my palms over my face and release a low groan despite the chuckle sitting in my chest. “Does your brother know you’re a pothead?”

  “We’re all alone. Why are you whispering?” she asks as her lips begin to tilt upward when I shrug dumbly. “Dash, I think we’ve established there are lots of things my brother doesn’t know about me,” she says as she tugs on my jeans, pulling me forward until I’m standing between her legs, still dangling from the bathroom sink. “Come on,” she rests her chin against my chest, her voice morphing into that of a teenage stoner from a movie as she peers up at me through heavy eyes. “You’re in control, you can quit any time you want to,” she says, making me grin down at her. “Seriously, it’s good shit. Smoke with me before we go back to your place.”

  “You’re a disaster of a person,” I tease, tugging her hair as I brush the pad of my thumb over her bare waist. “You know that, right?”

  “Mhmm,” she nods, gazing up at me in a haze and making me smile wider before I let out a sigh.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Tell you what?”

  “That you were a conductor on the Mary Jane train?”

  “You’re so dumb,” she giggles as she grips my sides and her head falls lazily against my chest, recovering a moment later and hugging herself closer. “I only smoke when I need to focus on a project or I get really stressed out.”

 

‹ Prev